


Love and change in Commoragh

by VelourFanClub (toomanysorrows)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Body Horror, Dark Eldar, Developing Relationship, Drukhari, F/F, Gore, Minor Character Death, Slavery, Surgery, aside from body horror none of these are big elements, they're kind of evil people in an all-evil society
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 10:25:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19293832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanysorrows/pseuds/VelourFanClub
Summary: In the caverns beneath the dark city, two drukhari unexpectedly find love.





	1. Glossary

**Author's Note:**

> That was a rly hard summary to write tbh.
> 
> I do want to emphasise like I did in the tags that most of those trigger warnings are, maybe a bit exaggerated? Aside from the body horror most of it is only mentioned in passing, not really dwelt on ^^
> 
> I hope yall have fun with this!

Since this is a crossover with a lot of terms specific to one fandom I figured I'd include this first.

Drukhari: A subspecies of Eldar (space elves) that are forced to consume other’s suffering, as without it their souls are consumed by a dark god. Because of this, their entire society is cut-throat and built around suffering and they regularly perform piratical raids on other planets to get slaves to torment.

Commoragh: The Drukhari’s main and only city, hidden in a dimension parallel to normal or realspace.

Haemonculus: A drukhari who has mastered the art of moulding flesh to their whims, also skilled with various arcane sciences. Always possesses extreme modifications to their body.

wrack: An assistant to a haemonculus that hopes to become a haemonculus themself one day. Also often heavily modified.

kabal: The fundamental structure for Commorite society, a group of warriors under one banner.

archon: the leader of a kabal

breeding walls: walls in which embryos are placed to develop rapidly, out of which the drukhari emerge fully grown. This is how most drukhari are born, though a minority among the nobles still have  
natural children, referred to as trueborn.

hellion: Drukhari who are part of a subculture built around fast hoverboards

tyranid: alien race that lives in a hivemind. It’s only desire is to devour all biomass in the galaxy and convert it into material for the hive.

keeper of secrets: a powerful daemon

squigs: carnivorous fungi with two legs and a lot of teeth

witch cult: a group of performers/warriors in the arenas of commoraghs who stage spectacles where captives are slaughtered to nourish the audience

succubus: the leader of a witch cult

Vect: Overlord of Commoragh for milennia, decides who gets to go on realspace raids and who doesn’t.

imperials: Members of the large Imperium of Mankind

techpriests: a group within the Imperium that worships technology

Great Wake: An event held after teh supposed death of Vect, where he rose again and all archons in attendance were killed.

ork: space orcs but they’re mushrooms with guns

waaagh: the aura all orks possess. It grows stronger when fighting and in large numbers, often making them more dangerous giving them large amounts of momentum during wars.


	2. Chapter one

The first time Rhajat saw Felicia, she was only a baby. Rhajat was still a wrack serving under the haemonculus Nyx back, learning the intricate art of flesh-crafting. The archon of the Kabal of the Chill Touch had brought two babies in himself, not trusting any of his subordinates with conveying them safely. They were born naturally from his wife, in itself already rare in Drukhari society, as most reproduction relied on the Haemonculi’s breeding walls. Moreover they were twins, a very rare occurrence for Drukhari. 

Rhajat wasn’t surprised when she learnt the mother hadn’t survived. After the millennia of little biological reproduction, many Drukhari bodies were simply not suited to the rigour of natural birth anymore, especially not to twins.

The Kabal of the Chill Touch had a longstanding, almost mandatory tradition. Through surgery their blood would be replaced by a special chemical concoction while their skin was made significantly thinner. As well as their skin taking on a distinct pale blue hue, those who had undergone the surgery could use the fluid to create ice and frost, from slightly chilled air around them to a blizzard.

No one had ever become archon of the kabal without undergoing the surgery. Now the archon had brought in his daughters to get the surgery early, probably to ensure their chances of succession if he died.

It was hardly an easy process, but Rhajat had had to do it often enough already by then that she was quite used to it. Usually she rather looked forward to it really. It was extraordinarily painful to the patient, and she usually felt full for days after. 

Unfortunately this time would be different. New-born Drukhari had not yet undergone the murderous conditioning of Commorite society. An overload of pain could very easily kill them, and therefore the operation had to happen under anaesthetic, which removed all the enjoyment from the process. Still, the archon had provided her mistress with some choice subjects for experiments, so it had to be done.

She’d decided to start with the blue haired one first. The baby was surprisingly calm and took the anaesthetic without any issue. Soon Rhajat started the operation.

One of the consequences of the Drukhari reproduction system was that since most simply sprang out of the breeding walls fully grown, the vast majority of the population had no experience with babies whatsoever. Therefore, Rhajat thought it not at all inadvisable to leave the other child sitting on a table, surrounded by various chemicals, alien animals in cages, and sharp implements.

She’d started the surgery with no issues, soon getting caught up in the process. Her first inkling something was wrong was from a low growl in the corner.

When she looked she saw the following:

A sturdy iron cage stood open, a cooing pink haired baby sitting in front of it, reaching out to pet a very angry looking sabre-wolf. It was part of a group the coven had been modifying for extra strength and ferocity for a patron.

Wracks were, as a general rule, not supposed to be fast. The extra limbs, bone-protrusions on their back and the variety of surgical implements and ingredients they carried around rather weighed them down. That said, Rhajat was sure that even one of the Hellions flying over the city would have been impressed with her speed in that moment. Rushing over, she stuffed the angry pup back in its cage (with only one bite-wound as a result of the struggle).

Unfortunately she hadn’t been quick enough. When she turned around to get the baby, the thing had somehow already crawled up on one of the ingredient tables. From what Rhajat could see, the child, aside from having broken several jars and vials with expensive substances, had somehow gotten a hold of some very, very corrosive tyranid saliva and a very, very expensive vial of Keeper of Secrets blood. And she seemed to be attempting to mix them together. 

Rhajat was fast enough to snatch the blood away, luckily, but this seemed to only upset the baby, as before she knew it she got the entire batch of Tyranid saliva splashed on her face, eliciting a loud scream of pain and loss of vision in one eye.

“You little cretin!!”

Before she could contain the little hellion she was forced to go find one of the acid-proof cloths hanging around, because having half your face burnt off was not at all conducive to catching infants. Just when she’d managed to wipe off the last of the stuff she turned around to look for the child, which had somehow gotten on the instruments table.

Before her eye, the baby managed to stab its index finger and soon the stone walls of the coven’s underground lair resounded with loud baby screams. Before Rhajat could do anything another noise joined the cacophony.

“What’s all this ruckus?”

In the doorway stood her mistress, Nyx, her diminutive frame held up from the ground by floating crystals. With a very large frown on her face, the haemonculus surveyed the damage. Rhajat tried to explain the situation to her mistress but the woman just held up her hand and shook her head.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’ll do the rest of the operation myself and get Ophelia to clean up this mess. You’re on dung gathering and cage cleaning duty for the rest of the week. Patch your face up at the end of it.”

Rhajat could only bow and hurry to get the shovel.


	3. chapter two

Rhajat didn’t see the twins again for a long time, and they soon slipped out of her mind. With the rate at which Drukhari aged it would be centuries before they would have needed a coven’s services again.

In fact, she only saw them again in the next millennium, by which time Rhajat had ascended to the status of Haemonculus herself and leader of the coven (after Nyx had passed away in a battlefield accident involving a very large amount of squigs). The pink-haired one, Felicia, had come into the lair one day. She’d clearly grown up to be a warrior, with armour, a sword and plenty of knives. 

She had a common enough request, chemical improvements to her brain so she’d have better reflexes. Nothing big, and she had the slave in tow to pay for it. It was a task Rhajat would normally have left to one of her wracks, but considering the hell the woman had put Rhajat through as a baby… Rhajat was very eager to perform the surgery herself to get some suffering as recompense.

It wasn’t long before Felicia came back again. And again. And again. She had Rhajat make all sorts of modifications: retractable claws, muscle implants, bone strengthening, improved eyesight and hearing, a new arm after the previous one was cut off. They varied from very difficult to almost laughably routine, yet still Rhajat did them all personally. 

At first it had been to get some payback for that first meeting, but soon she had to admit she grew rather fond of the girl. Which was… strange, really. Felicia was not a typical Drukhari. From what Rhajat observed, she cried easily, scared easily, laughed easily and had no inhibitions about sharing her feelings. While it was clear she knew Commoragh was a treacherous place, she still wore her heart on her sleeve more than others, and Rhajat wondered how she hadn’t been killed off yet. That was arguably suicidal, but it was refreshing in its own way, and even slightly endearing. 

Moreover, the awkward small talk Felicia tried to make during lighter parts of the surgeries was a nice change of pace. Usually when the subject was still capable of talking during the operation, it wasn’t terribly pleasant. There would be various vocalisations of pain (which, while delicious, you could get fed up with fast) or in some cases of pleasure (which was just awkward really).

Rhajat met Felicia’s sister towards the end of the millennium, and she was the polar opposite of her sibling. Flora had taken over leadership of the kabal from her father and had clearly internalised all the lessons of politicking in Commoragh. Her expression didn’t seem to change throughout the conversation they had and she did not give away any more information than needed. She’d come in the company of her sister, as well as a white-haired succubus Rhajat recognised as one of her other clients (she had wanted scaled claws and a tail implanted). 

Apparently the kabal had been granted permission by Vect for a raid in realspace, the first raid Flora would command. She wanted to debut in style with a large raid on an imperial world ruled by techpriests. She’d already secured help of one of the witch cults, but also wanted Rhajats covens creations there. It was easy to agree to: the world didn’t seem terribly well-defended from the intel the archon gave her and seeing the primitive contraptions those humans had come up with was always amusing. Besides, she hadn’t been outside that century.

The raid was in fact, a splendid success (it had Rhajat participating, of course it would be). The enemy had been dispatched with minimal losses, and her own flesh-creations had performed well above expectations. She was also happy to note that all the operations on Felicia had worked beautifully. While her sister fought at range from the rear, she dashed through the battlefield, a killing machine more than capable of keeping pace with the succubus. 

The sight of the warrior beheading three enemy soldiers, with a liberal spray of their blood over her as a result, actually managed to make Rhajat’s heart speed up while a slight flush covered her face, a sensation she hadn’t felt in years. In fact, when they were all back on the transport ships, she dared a suggestive comment, but any further flirts were shot down as the warrior was reduced down to a blushing mess.

It was also at that battle where she realised why Felicia hadn’t been killed by a plot in Commoragh yet. In the post-battle rush, with the air still thick with pain and screams, she could see her hugging the archon tightly, laughing happily while her sister looked at her with a fond smile. 

Deep bonds were not common in Drukhari society, where everyone was a potential knife in your back, but as with all Eldar when they happened they were very strong, and that was clearly the case here. Even the best warrior could get killed by the endless plots, but Rhajat doubted the archon would ever let anything happen to her sister if she could help it, and she had the political skill to do so.

Unfortunately, that in and of itself was a major weakness for Felicia.

For Rhajat the night of the Great Wake was no different from any other. She had never meddled much in the politics of the surface, and had no desire to commemorate Vect, so she just spent the evening leisurely inspecting the brain of a new tyranid specimen.

The first thing she heard about the massacre of archons at the wake came from a visitor. One of her wracks had let the visitor in and soon Rhajat was confronted with the sight of a rather dishevelled looking Felicia, a few fluid tears still on her face. Still, with more certainty and stability than one would expect considering how she looked, the woman spoke to her.

“I want to become a wrack.”

Rhajat was the kind of person to usually have a sarcastic remark ready at every opportunity, but even she had to admit she was rather stunned by the request. Sure, Felicia had shown some interest in the Haemonculus’s trade when she got her surgeries, but never to the point where Rhajat had expected her to want to take it up.

“Why?”

The woman started to ramble, a few stray tears flowing again.

“Flora got killed at that wake, and in the kabal they’ve already started killing each other over leadership, and I know that I could neither run it nor do they even like me, and Flora’s lover Corrin also got caught up with that mess, and basically you’re the only person I’m somewhat familiar with who isn’t in a bad way right now…”

She sighed pulling herself together.

“Becoming a wrack is basically the safest option I have right now. It’s that simple.”

Rhajat frowned, thinking it over. During her visits for surgeries Rhajat had had plenty of opportunity to see that Felicia was… rather on the clumsy side. The enhanced reflexes helped avoid messes, but still, she certainly wouldn’t be an ideal assistant. But still, something inside her resisted letting the woman go back out there with no help.

“Very well.”


	4. Chapter three

Rhajat idly wandered through the cavern. She was between projects at the moment. A kabal had been hired to procure certain ingredients she needed in exchange for some services, and she had nothing big to do while she waited on their arrival. Inspect what the Wracks were doing, take in some suffering, just idling really.

She was just about to go check on the state of some subjects when she felt something tap at her long tail. Looking down, it was a floating disembodied hand, a pupil in its palm looking up at her.

“Ah, does Felicia need something?”

The palm moved up and down to indicate that was it, before slowly zooming away with Rhajat in tow.

Felicia had indeed not been the best assistant when Rhajat first made her a wrack, just as clumsy as Rhajat had thought. That’s why Felicia had created the hands, with some help from Rhajat. They had fingers to do menial work with, and eyes to see through when they were moving out of Felicia’s own sight. The contraptions were controlled with nodes linking them to her brain, and could therefore be directed in the same way other limbs and senses would be. 

It was not the sort of thing most Haemonculi did for their wracks, but, aside from Rhajats admitted attachment to the girl, it had been a good investment. While a klutz, Felicia was far from dumb. She’d always been good at killing with blades, and that knowledge easily translated into a good use of medical instruments and knowledge of the body. By now she had become a very talented haemonculus in her own right.

 

Soon she entered the room where Felicia was working, the rest of the hands zooming over a large ork. He was seated in a chair, his head covered with a metal cap connected to a large machine in the corner, although it currently wasn’t in use as the ork was being dissected. He looked rather sullen and emotionless, only a sombre expression on his face and the occasional grunt of pain.

Felicia had certainly changed over the years. With their lack of use in favour of the new hands, her normal arms had thinned quite a bit. Like most Haemonculi she had several antler-like protrusions on her back, various equipment dangling from them, though instead of the usual bone they were made with the ice powers her first surgery had given her. Interestingly she’d kept her legs, albeit modified with several mechanical implements to prevent her from stumbling over as much.

Although the hand that had lead Rhajat there had of course been controlled by Felicia, she was very much focused on the dissection, giving Rhajat the chance to slither open and catch her off guard with a hug from behind.

“Did you need me for something?”

The other haemonculus startled but smiled, quickly waving one of her hands over.

“Oh right, yes! I know you’re looking into that whole thing with the mechanics of ork waaagh, and a client brought in a fresh ork captive earlier. I figured before starting to dissect him, I figured it’d help you if I extracted the anger from his brain first. I made sure he became plenty worked up before starting the process.”

One of the hands floated over, holding a jar with a thick green vapour in it and offering it to Rhajat, who happily took it. She leant in to place a peck on Felicia’s cheek.

“Thank you love, that was very considerate.”

Felicia blushed, the skin on her face becoming slightly more blue.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

Rhajat stowed it away while Felicia went back to the dissection. She watched in silence for a bit longer.

“By the way, did you have any ideas for the next realspace raid?”

Felicia hummed while a sharp incision by one of the hands into his neck elicited a loud groan from the ork.

“I was thinking of Breanna? You know, that hunting reserve for the imperials? There should be plenty of interesting animals, and we could test those special tree-climbing constructs we built with all the vegetation. And it’s supposed to be lightly defended.”

Rhajat smirked.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that we’d be able to catch humans completely off guard in a scenic locale?”

The flush that had only just disappeared from Felicia’s face returned.

“Well, that may have been part of it….”

Rhajat shrugged.

“Well, it’s a good idea. I’ve been wanting to the brains of imperial nobles with those of their commoners anyway. I’ll go see if we’ve got any kabals or witch cults in debt to get some extra manpower. Do have fun with that!”

She gestured towards the ork and turned around. Before she could move back though, one of the floating hands moved over and turned her around, after which Felicia quickly planted a kiss on her lips.

“Of course!”

With a grin she went back to the dissection.

While Rhajat slithered away it was her turn to blush.


End file.
